Lachlan turned his gaze to her, and his forehead smoothed.
She gave him a smile as if to say, “I’d feel better if you were here.” For the past week, she’d assumed a sunny disposition to assure everyone she was at peace with MI5’s plan. In truth, she was at peace with her own plan. A strange and sad peace.
“Very good. Shall we start training?” Lachlan unbuttoned his jacket.
Cilla held out her hand for the garment. “May I?”
“Thank you, lass.” He unbuttoned his cuffs, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and squatted by the limpet mine.
Dobbs unscrewed the long head of the insect. “Have you read the manual?”
“Aye.”
“This is the time-delay fuse.” Dobbs unscrewed a cap at the end. “You’ll insert the acetone ampule here. When the ampule is punctured, the acetone will slowly dissolve a celluloid washer at the end of the fuse. The dissolution will release a spring, which will activate the firing pin. The mine will detonate.”
Cilla edged to the side to see around Lachlan’s distractingly broad shoulders.
“After you insert the ampule, screw the end cap back in place.” Dobbs did so, but without an ampule. “You can store it this way for a while. To set the time-delay fuse, remove this safety pin in the end cap and turn the actuating screw to pierce the ampule.” He twisted a key-like device.
“Aye.” Lachlan squatted with his elbows on his knees, and the breeze and the sunshine played with his red hair.
Cilla forced her attention back to Dobbs. Everything depended on this.
Dobbs opened a small rectangular box, revealing a rainbow of little glass balls. “Here are the ampules. Each color provides a different length of time for the delay, from hours to days. It varies by temperature, so check the chart in the box long before you begin your operation.”
“Aye, I’ll check the weather too.”
Dobbs patted the insect’s iron back. “This bracket is for the rod you’ll use to attach the mine below the waterline.”
This part didn’t concern Cilla. She stroked the smooth wool of Lachlan’s jacket and inhaled deeply, trying to draw up the scent of him as she drank in the sight of him.
The bulk of his shoulders and arms stretching his white shirt. The brilliant gleam of his hair. The curve of his cheek and chin. The intense concentration in his brown eyes.
Crippling pain squeezed her chest. She’d never see him again.
He loved her too. She’d felt it in his protective words and embrace. But as of tomorrow night, he’d no longer love her. She’d make sure of it.
Her vision blurred. She blinked away the moisture and prayed her actions wouldn’t set him back, not after he’d finally forgiven Neil. Mercy suited him.
With no good choice before her, she’d selected the least horrible of choices.
A week earlier, in Kraus’s final message before departing Hamburg by U-boat, he’d sent the coordinates for the rendezvous. As Cilla had expected, he’d rejected her proposal to remain in Scotland if he observed the sabotage. She needed training, he insisted, and if she was loyal to Germany, she’d make the rendezvous. If she didn’t, he’d send a wireless message to Hamburg. Orders would be sent to the Netherlands, and her parents and Hilde would be arrested, sent to a concentration camp, and shot upon arrival.
Cilla hugged Lachlan’s jacket to her stomach. Saving both her family and her own life was impossible. She had to sacrifice one or the other, and she couldn’t bear to condemn her family to death.
But one path had opened in the mire, a way she might be able to at least save Double Cross and everyone she cared about in Scotland.
After deciphering Kraus’s message late at night, alone, Cilla had transcribed a new version of the message with altered coordinates. She’d eliminated the threat to her family and changed Kraus’s words to read, “If we observe the sabotage, you may indeed remain where you are. If not, you are to meet us the following night at the same time and the same coordinates.”
Then she’d burned the true transcription.
Her fake message had sparked hope and purpose in Lachlan and Yardley.
Kneeling in the heather, her fierce Scot unleashed the fullness of his smile at her. “Dinnae fash yourself, lass. We’ll give Kraus a grand show.”
Cilla poured all her love and admiration for him into her own smile.
Tomorrow she’d break his heart.
